I wait all week for him to come home. Then...every other Sunday around 1 oclock , he punches me in my nose. I roll around on the floor...I drink alot, but it still hurts. I know that he loves me...sometimes he can be soooo sweet. But, every time I start believing in him, he hits me again...even harder than the time before. It hurts even worse, because I know he has the POTENTIAL to be a good man...but I have to get away before he does some damage that I can't recover from.

Every time I walk away he sends flowers. And I'm a real sucker for flowers. And I start believing in him again. Then...he waits a week and kicks me in my head...and it hurts...bad. If I just knew that he was a bad man...or that he was a crack addict, or a filthy butt pirate(with a number one draft pick)...I could walk away. But he writes the nicest little poems and says the sweetest things. And I always come back...only to be kicked in the f##cking head like the gullible little ***** that I am.